


warm me up in a nova's glow

by sleeponrooftops



Series: we're living louder [3]
Category: Game of Thrones RPF
Genre: ASOS Spoilers, Homophobia, Language, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 03:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/743528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeponrooftops/pseuds/sleeponrooftops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which their world turns slowly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	warm me up in a nova's glow

**Author's Note:**

> A few small discrepancies —
> 
> i. I have an utter lack of knowledge regarding acting and what these people are actually like, so I apologize for anything you find wrong or stupid. I screwed up the shooting schedules, too, sorry. Also, I didn’t do written dialect because no. I’ve done it before, and it makes me want to pull my hair out more than creating my own language does. (On this note, I know they film in the summer, but I screwed that up way back in the first one before I _actually_ knew that, so, to keep things consistent with this story and the things I want to do, they film in the winter, which, really, makes sense in the regular realm of TV shows that film while they’re premiering, so.)
> 
> ii. You guys already know about Ben being around earlier than he should be, but I’m including the second part of that note: I do _**not**_ hate Ben, not at all, he’s just playing a part. This should be said for Kit’s brother, John, as well. I don’t know why I keep giving Kit shit people in his life, but I like drama, so.
> 
> iii. Helen’s is a restaurant in Concord, MA, and it’s not a café, but I’ve apparently taken to naming everything even remotely related to food after it in my stories recently, oops.
> 
> iv. I may have done a thing and changed someone’s age in this, and I don’t want to say who and ruin the surprise, but he’s definitely supposed to be older, and I don’t care. I also made up his back story, and it’s almost certainly not true, but it’s cuter this way. It happens around Christmas, so when you get there, don’t yell at me.

_October 27, 2012._

 

Kit has such a sense of nostalgia when they walk into Jack’s bar that he pauses at the door for a moment.  Ben laughs at him and tugs on his elbow, pulling him over to the bar.  He taps the counter and fits a wide grin to his mouth as Jack turns.  “Be still my beating heart!” Jack exclaims, coming over and hugging Kit over the counter, “My two favorite people, back together again,” he says as he lets go, “First round’s on the house.  Usual?”

 

“Aye, and food,” Kit responds, letting Jack rumple his curls before he turns away.

 

Ben looks over at Kit, his grin fading into fondness, and then asks, “So, how was Spain?”

 

“Amazing,” Kit begins, and that’s it.  As though they’d never parted, Kit and Ben fall right back into themselves, lifelong best friends.  They spend much of the night in Jack’s, drinking and laughing until they’re the center of the bar.

 

“Going to powder your nose?” someone teases as Kit excuses himself from the crowd around them.  Even the bathroom is crazy and loud, and Kit sighs, pushing back out and making a beeline for the exit door down the hall that leads out back.  He breathes in a lungful of cold night air and tries to make his head stop spinning.  A moment later, the door opens, and out comes Ben.

 

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” he says, voice dropped back down to just _Ben_ , Kit’s best friend and not the performer.  Ben tugs him away, and Kit follows, fishing out a cigarette as he goes.

 

They find Ben’s car, and it’s a short trip back to Kit’s flat where he fights with himself for half a second before saying, “Wanna come in?”  Ben nods after a second and shuts off his car.  Kit fumbles with his keys momentarily before letting them in and slapping a hand over the light switch.  With Ben behind him, the flat looks a little different—he suddenly notices the extra set of keys in the Tardis, one of Richard’s beanies on the coat rack, a scattering of books that clearly aren’t his, Richard’s t-shirt by the sofa, his coffee mug sitting next to the pot, and so much more.  Kit had never really noticed it before, the very obvious way Richard had become so inherently part of his life.  All at once, he’s warm, inside and out, and it makes him smile.

 

They find their way into the kitchen where Kit makes tea and Ben looks around.  “I want you to meet Rob,” he says suddenly, and Kit turns from a cabinet, one eyebrow quirked.

 

“Yeah?”  Ben nods, and Kit shrugs.  “Okay.  We should do a double date.  You can finally meet Richard.  Properly, I mean.”

 

“I’d like that.”  They drift off about other things and end up on the sofa, but Kit keeps thinking back to the bar and Ben’s words, _“So, I’m a hypocrite and fell flat on my face for one of my costars.  We’ve only been dating a few months now, had to pull my head out of my ass, but—gods, Kit, he’s just so good to me.  Really.”_ And he thinks that maybe the world will stop spinning so fast now.

 

\--

 

_November 4, 2012._

Kit wakes up in the middle of the night shaking, falls out of bed, and pukes all over his floor.  He barely manages to stumble up and down the hall before he’s giving up his stomach again.  He’s got his head in the toilet until his vision is spinning and his whole body hurts.  He sags against the wall opposite, panting.  He’s drenched in a cold sweat, but he feels like he’s burning from the inside out, and, somehow, he still manages to force himself to move so he can rummage under the sink for cleaning supplies.

 

It takes Kit nearly an hour to clean the floor what with his stomach turning against him, and he wants nothing more than to shower when he’s finished.  He manages to do that in peace, and then he’s crawling back into bed with a hot rice sock on his belly and a mug of tea in his hands.  He used to get sick like this when he was little, abruptly and violently, and he’d been in a hospital bed more than once for various reasons because of it.

 

Now, though, the tea seems to settle him a bit while he watches _House_ reruns.  He doesn’t sleep the rest of the night except one brief nap that ends with him in the bathroom again.  It’s seven o’clock when he dials Ben’s number.  “For fuck’s sake, Kit,” Ben grumbles after nearly nine rings.

 

“Hold on,” Kit manages to say before he drops the phone and heaves into the toilet.  When he picks up his phone again, he can hear Ben explaining to someone.  “Ben,” Kit groans.

 

“I’m on my way.”

 

“ _No_.  That’s not why I’m calling.”

 

“Okay,” Ben says after a pause, “What, then?”

 

“I’m sorry.  Richard gets back today, and—”

 

Ben cuts him off, “What time does his flight get in?  Wanna come?” he adds to the someone Kit assumes is Rob.

 

“Ten.  It’s a half hour away.”

 

“Alright, I got it.  You okay by yourself?”

 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.  Thanks, Ben.”

 

“No problem, mate.  Feel better, yeah?”  Kit makes a grumbling noise, Ben laughs, and then he’s left to pressing his cheek against the cool bathroom floor.

 

\--

 

Richard is several kinds of worried when he steps into the airport, and he still hasn’t heard from Kit.  He gets his bag and starts to make his way to the doors, worrying his bottom lip, when he hears his name, “ _Richard_!”  He turns, and _Ben Barnes_ is jogging over to him.  He knows he and Kit have been hanging out, but all he can see is Kit’s dislocated shoulder.  “Hey,” Ben says as he stops by him, “Kit called me puking this morning, asked me to pick you up.  My car’s parked outside.”

 

“Is he alright?” Richard asks as they walk away, frowning.

 

“Yeah, he’ll be fine, just unable to drive right now.”  They don’t speak again until Ben’s pulling out and Richard’s leg shakes with worry.  “Richard,” Ben says, sighing, and Richard looks over at him, actually sees him and, all at once, understands.

 

Ben is tall and handsome, his dark hair and dark eyes making him so intriguing and _desirous_.  He can almost see Kit, in love with his stubble, tugging on his once-long hair, and falling forever in those eyes.  Gods, it’s how Richard feels when Kit looks at him.  Like Kit, Ben is so easily attractive, and Richard gets it.

 

Ben’s voice brings him back, “I’m sorry.  I know I’ve been a shit person, and you really don’t have any reason to forgive me, but I know I was wrong, and I’m hoping you’ll give me a second chance.  I’d like to be part of Kit’s life again, but it’s clear to me now that that’s not possible without your approval, too.  You really mean a lot to him.  Anyone can see that, but—I mean, I’ve known him for _years_ , and I’ve never seen him in so deep, so happy.”

 

Richard doesn’t respond right away, though, when he does, he means it, “I’d love to get to know you.  It’s obvious Kit can’t really live without you, and I’d like to be friends.”  Ben nods in agreement, and they spend the rest of the ride in light conversation until they’re at the flat.  “Thank you, Ben.”  He exits to Ben’s wave, and remembers halfway up the stairs that he left his keys in the Tardis.  He tries the door anyway, surprised when it opens.

 

Inside, something smells delicious, and Richard hangs up his jacket and scarf before turning the corner into the kitchen.  A few scented candles have been lit, and a plate sits on the island.  He comes in, setting his bag down, and he can’t help but smile.  A sandwich sits on the plate with a mug of tea and a bowl of fruit, a small note sitting on the sandwich, _be right down, enjoy._   Richard sets the note down as he hears movement upstairs, and he goes back over to his bag, rummaging through it.

 

He sets a journal on the island with blue doors as covers tied with a red fabric, and then sits as Kit is coming down the stairs.  “Hey,” Kit greets, going around to the other side, “I’d give you a proper hello, but I don’t want to infect you.  What?” he adds to Richard’s expression.  Richard flicks his eyes over before picking up his sandwich, and Kit almost squeals.  “Shut _up_.  No way!  Is this—and— _holy shit_.”

 

“One of Eleven’s bowties and a copy of River’s book.  Matt heard you were a fan and started stealing things.”

 

“If I wasn’t sick, _oh man_.”  Richard laughs, watching Kit page through the journal.  “So, how was it?” he asks, leaning on the island, “Tell me everything.”

 

Richard laughs again, “It was amazing.  Matt and Jenna were excellent to work with, and _so_ hilarious.  The Tardis set is just—beautiful, honestly.  You would’ve died.  Oh, and I met Steven Moffat, like I told you.  He was brilliant, got him to—”

 

“Sign the journal!” Kit exclaims as he reaches the last page, “Seriously, cut it out.  Stop being awesome.”

 

Richard just smiles.  “How was your week?”

 

Kit shrugs, “Good.  Hung out with Ben mostly.  I met up with John for drinks.  Oh!  I had lunch with my mum, too, and she invited us round for dinner sometime this coming week.”

 

“Listen, if you keep doing this mind-reading thing, we’re going to have to visit a psychic or something.”

 

Kit laughs, and Richard smiles, just looking at him.  He feels like it’s been so long since he’s seen his face and really heard his voice.  All the pangs of anxiety and missing and emptiness and his stupid cold feet rush back, and he sighs.  “I miss you,” he hears himself say, and Kit’s smile falters for half a second.

 

“Wanna go watch shit movies and snuggle?”

 

“Gods, yes,” Richard says, already sliding off the stool.  He washes his plate while Kit pokes at his fruit.

 

Kit walks ahead of him up the stairs, sweats sagging on his hips, and Richard smiles.  He wants so badly to skim his fingers over the dip of his lower back, to drift forward and scratch over the jut of his hip bone.  He’d woken up panting in the middle of the night his fifth day on set, images of Kit staring up at him with _dark_ eyes through _dark_ lashes, his mouth wrapped around Richard’s cock, left over from his dream.  In reality, he was aching and leaking onto his stomach, and he’d thought of Kit’s back, muscles moving and jumping, the long slope of his spine into the dip before the curve of his ass.  Without any conscious effort, he was jerking off quick and careless, Kit’s name tumbling out of his mouth as he thought about pulling out of that ass and coming in that dip.

 

“Stop it,” Kit says suddenly, shaking Richard back to the present where Kit is kicking off his sweats and climbing into bed.  Richard stares at him for a moment before disrobing down to his briefs and shirt.  Kit flips through the channels while Richard gets comfortable, trying to ignore the dull fire in his belly.  Kit makes a noise and settles on _Tron: Legacy_ , smiles when Richard holds out his arms, and they’re both asleep within minutes.

 

\--

 

Kit wakes up because he’s alone, and he turns onto his front in the bed, stretching.  It’s still light out, and he yawns, blinking at the sun streaming in through the small window.  “I want a big bay window with a sill seat,” he says aloud, and Richard doesn’t respond from the doorway other than to join Kit on the bed, freshly showered and holding a cup of tea for Kit.

 

“I think you’d need a house, then,” Richard says as Kit sits and takes the tea.  “So, I never actually finished my psychic thoughts.  My dad invited us round this coming week, as well.  I said Wednesday.”

 

“I can tell my mum Friday, then, if you want.”

 

“Yeah, sounds good.  Also, I’m hungry.”

 

“We could go to Helen’s and then do the shopping because I’m lazy.”

 

Richard laughs but leans forward nonetheless to kiss his temple.  “Get dressed, and we’ll leave.  I’m gonna grab a smoke, okay?”

 

“Yeah.  Everything alright?” Kit asks as Richard gets off their bed.

 

“Just tired.”

 

Richard leaves, and Kit watches him go with a frown before going to dress.  He still feels a little shitty, and so he wears a loose shirt and sweatshirt over his tight pants, a normal black.  When he heads downstairs, Docs half-assed, Richard is on the phone outside.  He pauses to check the tone of voice and hears, “Yeah, I’ll ask him about it.”  He frowns but continues on to the kitchen, opening the fridge to look around and start making a mental list of what they need.  He’s barely made it partway when he feels like his throat is closing.

 

He swears and makes a beeline for the stairs, stumbling into the bathroom with a groan.  Outside, Richard turns at the noise, not hearing what Bradley’s saying.  “I gotta go,” he interrupts him, “I’m sorry, Kit’s sick again.”

 

“It’s fine.  Give me a ring when you guys are free, yeah?”

 

“Yeah.  Speak later,” Richard says before hanging up and jogging back inside.  When he sees Kit, he hurries forward, falling down beside him and pulling his curls out of the way.  He looks around until he spots an elastic, and he ties Kit’s curls back before rubbing a hand over his back.  He whispers soothingly until Kit leans his head against the porcelain lid, Richard reaching up to flush.  “Are you okay?” Richard asks, and Kit groans, shivering.

 

“No,” he finally says, and Richard frowns when a tear escapes and rolls unchecked down his cheek.

 

“Kit,” he says sadly, leaning forward to kiss his temple, “Can you make it to the bed?”  After a moment, he nods, and Richard helps him up, waits while Kit washes out his mouth, and then gets him into bed, leaving only to heat up his rice sock and grab a glass of water and some pills.  When he returns, Kit is staggering back down the hall.  They spend the next ten minutes in there until Kit passes out, and Richard carries him back.  He sets him up with the sock on his belly and settles the blankets around his shoulders and sighs, sitting next to him.  He doesn’t know what to do, how to take care of him and make it all better.

 

After a moment, he rises and digs out a pen and paper to leave Kit a note, _went out to do the shopping—I’ll grab some soup and crackers, call me if you want anything particular.  I love you._   He leaves it on their nightstand, next to the water underneath the pills, and then he’s off, moving quietly about the room to dress.  He ends up in the tan trousers Kit always lusts over, a grey sweater, and Kit’s leather jacket.  He winds a red scarf around his neck, laces on a pair of Converse, and grabs his keys and smokes before he leaves, clambering into his SUV away from the chill of November.

 

Helen’s is relatively dead when he enters, and he’s seated by Leila, who gives him a small smile.  Kit and he frequent Helen’s enough that they’re always given the seat by the window and coffees to their liking.  It’s weird now without Kit, relaxed into the booth and peering at the menu.  He ends up with something simple, wanting to get back to Kit as soon as possible, and he pauses only a moment later to pick out a pastry to bring home.

 

Shopping is better—they don’t always go together, though it’s certainly more enjoyable when they do.  And so, Richard ends up on the phone with his mum while he wanders about.  “Do you think you’ll still be able to make it for Wednesday?” his mum asks as he’s trying to decide how much he wants to spoil Kit with cereal.  It’s obnoxious, really, how much of it he can eat.

 

“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll be fine by then.  Are the girls going to be there?”

 

“I believe so.  Cara is popping home from uni and I’ve asked Lauren not to make plans.  They’re very intrigued to finally meet the man they’ve heard so much about.”

 

“Well, I _won’t_ tell Kit that and get him all wired up.”

 

His mum laughs before saying her goodbyes, “Well, I’ve got to help Lauren with something.  I’ll expect you around five thirty.  Dinner will be at six.  Are you staying the night so you don’t have to drive back so late?”

 

“If it’s alright with you, I’d appreciate it.”

 

“Of course.  Be good, dear, and get Kit better so I can meet him, you hear?”

 

“Yeah, mum.  Goodbye, love you.”  Richard hangs up after his mum has given her love, and then it’s only a little longer before he’s finishing up and packing the car.

 

Kit calls him when he’s on the road, and Richard answers to, “I am _starving_.”

 

Richard smiles and says, “That’s good to hear.  I’m almost home.  How are you feeling?”

“Better.  I’m really sorry you had to come home to this, Richard.”

 

“It’s fine.  It’s not your fault.  I’m hanging up.”

 

“It’s cold out,” Kit says, and then Richard’s ending the call and parking.  Kit comes down the steps and helps him take in the shopping, getting in the way until Richard groans at him and pushes the Helen’s bag into his hands.  Kit makes himself tea to go with the muffin, and he chatters away about nothing, making Richard smile.  It’s good to have his Kit back.

 

\--

 

The next morning, Richard wakes up because Kit jut bit his thigh.  When he jerks awake, the dream he’d been having, the same as his fifth night on set, and looks down, he realizes, with a rush of blood south, that it’s _happening_ right this very second.

 

He groans openly at the sight, Kit’s tongue dragging up his cock, dark eyes focused on Richard’s face, and Richard stares back at him, slack-jawed, as Kit leans left and bites Richard’s hip, making him whine and arch up toward him a little.  Kit smirks when he lets the new bruise go, kisses over it, and then, without any preamble, takes the head of Richard’s dick into his mouth and _sucks_.  Richard struggles to stay flat on the mattress, fingers fisting in the sheets and keening.

 

He feels Kit’s fingers a heartbeat later, one hand wrapping deftly around the base of his dick and the other sneaking back to tease at Richard’s balls and make him absolutely crazy.  Richard finds some semblance of calm in his head, forces himself to breathe right before he looks down again, and he waits for it, the little tick that lets him have even the slightest bit of control.  Kit’s tongue presses against the bundle of nerves beneath the crown, and his eyes flick up to meet Richard’s gaze briefly before they drop away, and his head tilts up.  Richard untangles his right hand from the sheets immediately, fingers sliding into Kit’s long curls and tugging.  Kit grunts, pulling off, and he spares a moment to bite Richard’s belly before he returns, and Richard loosens his grip, apologizing with a small scratch that makes Kit practically purr.

 

Kit is dangerous, and Richard never lasts long when he puts his mouth to use, knows he certainly isn’t going to this morning, not when he’s been pining for Kit for so long now.  And so, when he feels the edge creeping quickly, he tugs on Kit’s curls, hard enough that Kit looks up, uncertain, and Richard keeps tugging until Kit releases him and leans up his body, fits his mouth to Richard’s, kisses him until Richard is groaning.  He uses Kit’s hair to pull him back, and Kit stares down at him, breath coming fast and hard, his eyes a thin ring of dark brown around his black lust-blown pupils.  He pulls in the corner of his bottom lip with his teeth, and it drives Richard crazy, makes him lean up and bite, suck Kit’s lip in so he can nibble on it and watch Kit’s eyes flutter closed, letting Richard pull him in closer, lick his way into Kit’s mouth and explore.

 

“Richard,” Kit moans, shifting, the weight of his cock brushing along Richard’s, and it almost tips him over.

 

“Mm, Kit.  Kit,” Richard says, panting, pulling away.  He looks at Kit for a moment, takes him all in, from the way his hips rock ever so slightly against Richard, trying to find some friction, up the slope of his torso, toned for filming, to his scratchy jaw and sleep-mussed curls, and Richard just wants it all.  “Fuck me,” he says suddenly, and Kit buries his face in Richard’s neck with a groan, kisses and bites his way down to his collarbone, nips sharply there, and then leans up and away, reaching over to the nightstand.

 

He lays back, his breaths coming out shaky, and he tries to settle his body, tries to will it away from the rush of fire in his spine, and he knows Kit can see it all, knows it the second his fingers curl around the base of his cock and squeeze.  Richard groans at the pressure, lifting off the mattress, gaze locked on Kit, his other hand quick and purposeful, sliding lube over his own dick.

 

“Kit,” he starts to say, but then Kit passes his thumb over his entrance and dives his index finger in.  He’d thought that at least was in his dream, Kit’s fingers in his ass, but he’s already loose and aching for him, clenching around his finger until Kit is scissoring him open, wiping his fingers on the sheets, and burying himself in Richard, gasping.

 

“Don’t,” he says, his eyes snapping up to meet Richard’s.  He releases his dick, and Richard settles back onto the mattress, nods, and starts to grab fistfuls of the sheets, but then Kit’s bowing over him, curls in reaching distance, and Richard moans, immediately tangling his fingers in his hair instead.

 

Neither of them last long, and it occurs to Richard that Kit has been feeling the same, has been waking up from stifling dreams, remembers that text from Kit that he’d taken completely the wrong way, _fuck, I miss you_.  He hears those same words now, understands the text in a whole new context, “Fuck, Richard,” Kit groans, leaning into his hand, thumb biting into his hip, “Fuck, I missed you.”

 

His voice is so many levels of wrecked that Richard whines and arches up into the furious rhythm Kit has set, taking what is his, what has always been his.  “K-Kit,” Richard manages, hand tightening in his hair, and Kit lets him tip his head up, lets Richard hitch his legs higher, breath coming out fast and angry until he tightens a hand around his cock and matches the rhythm of his hips, driving Richard over the edge with a few strokes.  He comes with a wild shout, tugging painfully on Kit’s hair, leg slipping so that his foot passes along Kit’s side, falling over his ass before crashing on the bed.  Kit gasps like he’s been punched, hips slamming into Richard and following him, shaking as his cock throbs inside his beautiful man, mouth hung open.

 

“Fuck,” Kit says after a beat.  Richard releases his hair, and he lets his temple drop to his shoulder, shaking a little.  Richard doesn’t move, limp against the mattress.  His other leg slides down after a second, trembling, and Kit takes in a slow breath before leaning back on his heels and slipping out of Richard, who tries to say something and ends up just groaning.

 

And then Kit laughs.

 

Richard opens his eyes immediately, looking up at him like he’s lost his mind, but Kit just shakes his head and stumbles off the bed, returning with a cloth to clean Richard up.  “ _What_ is so funny?” Richard demands once Kit’s climbing back into bed with him.

 

“That was just—fucking fantastic,” Kit mumbles, snuggling into Richard’s arms, “I missed you, and shit, Richard—the noises you were making this morning while you were sleeping.  I couldn’t resist.”

 

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Richard says, pulling Kit closer to him and kissing his forehead, “What time is it?”

 

“Time to go back to sleep o’clock.”  Richard just laughs and lets Kit pull him under.

 

\--

 

_November 7, 2012._

Richard is still in the shower when Kit opens his closet and looks forlornly at the clothes there.  Finally, sighing, he grabs a pair of black trousers and is shimmying into them when the water turns off.  “Are you wearing plaid?” he calls down the hall, and it’s a moment before Richard responds.

 

“No, go ahead!”  He steals one of Richard’s plaid shirts, maroon and yellow and green, and it’s flannel and warm and carries Richard’s smell, who definitely laughs at him when he walks in, catching Kit with the collar at his nose.  “Loser,” he teases, but he kisses the back of Kit’s neck before dropping his towel and finding clothes to change into.  He ends up in grey trousers, fishes out Kit’s white thermal, looks at the flannel, and frowns.

 

“Seriously,” Kit says, already slipping the buttons out.  They switch, and Kit undoes the buttons at the top of his thermal, tosses on his black leather jacket, and goes to flop down on the bed so he can lace on his Docs.  Richard has one Converse on before he grumbles and changes into a pair of brown boat shoes, and Kit just throws a pillow at him as he laughs.

 

They’re running late by the time they finally pile into Kit’s jeep, an overnight bag tossed in the back, Richard juggling phones and smokes, and Kit throwing his keys on the dashboard so he has free hands to put their travel mugs in the console.  Finally, though, they’re off, making the seven hour journey north to Scotland where Richard’s family lives.  The trip is mostly uneventful, though Bradley and Ben call each of them, respectively, to make plans for a double date, and so then Kit is catching Richard up on Ben and Rob and Richard is catching Kit up on Bradley and Colin.  By the time Richard’s sometimes misleading directions get them to his family house, it’s just after five thirty, and Kit’s fingers are twitchy with nerves.

 

“They’re going to love you, I promise.  Just as I do,” Richard says when they get out, crossing over to kiss Kit on the cheek, and Kit just laces his hand with Richard’s, squeezing.

 

He’s met Rory, very briefly, when Richard brought him to the yacht they would sail south for a vacation, and he remembers seeing Marie as they were leaving that day, but the small woman that answers the door is neither of them.  “ _Richard_!” she _squeals_ , launching herself at her brother, and Kit releases his hand, laughing as Richard catches her and hugs her tightly to him.

 

“Cara,” he says when he puts her down, beaming, “This is Kit.  Kit, Cara, my little sister.”

  
“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Cara says, and she surprises Kit with a hug that he returns.  It’s quick, and she steps back, winking up at him, “I’ve heard tons about you, all good, no worries, but you’re definitely way cuter than Richard has described.  Come on in!”

 

She ushers them in, this little ball of energy bouncing around, and Kit grins as he follows Richard into the house.  She’s this tiny little thing, at least a head and a half shorter than Richard, and she has dark brown hair that she inherited from Marie, cut in jagged layers around her jaw, but Lauren has her father’s red curls, tied up in a messy bun, and green eyes, and her smile is wide and bright when Cara introduces them, holding out her hand.  Behind her, a man taller than Richard, with a handsome face and honey eyes, introduces himself as Lauren’s husband, Caleb.  His accent falls heavy around them, so very, _very_ American, and Cara actually giggles a little when he talks.  “Caleb is from Texas,” she explains, “He and Lauren got married three years ago, and can you believe she actually convinced him to move to Scotland?  Bummer, away from that heat.  Anyway, I’ll take that—” she says, snatching the overnight bag from Richard’s shoulder, “—and Lauren will show you into the dining room.  Dinner’s almost ready.”

 

Rory’s setting the table when they enter, and he comes over to embrace Richard tightly and shakes hands with Kit, calling his wife in, who makes a little noise and rushes over at the sight of her son.  “And this must be Kit,” she says, releasing Richard to lay her hands on Kit’s shoulders.  After a moment of her dark eyes flicking over him, she gushes, “Oh, darling, you definitely did not do him justice.”  And then she’s hugging him, and Kit can’t even believe how lucky he is, to be accepted so easily into this family.

 

Dinner is a loud affair, with a colorful spread of food and plenty of alcohol to go around.  Marie asks a million questions that Kit’s all too happy to answer, and soon, he and Richard are telling war stories from set.  Kit asks his own questions in turn, getting to know Cara and Lauren, and, though he tries to ask Caleb about Texas, he’s not so forthcoming.  Other than that slight mishap, though, dinner is wonderful, and Kit’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much when Rory and Marie disappear with the plates, Cara is called in to bring out the dessert, and Richard turns, plucking Kit’s hand up off the table and kissing his knuckles.  He’s got this beam that could light the sun, and Kit returns it, holding his gaze until Cara comes back in and starts making obnoxious noises at them.  They eat dessert slowly, and Lauren and Caleb are the first to excuse themselves.

 

“It was so lovely finally meeting you, Kit,” Lauren says, coming around the table, and Kit stands, smiling when she reaches him and takes his hand, squeezing it, before she leans forward and kisses him on the cheek.

 

“You, as well, Lauren,” he says softly, and she smiles, holding his hand for a moment longer before releasing it to ruffle Richard’s hair playfully.  He bats her away, and she leaves with Caleb, who gives a curt nod in their direction.

 

When they leave, Cara turns and leans away from the table, and it’s a few moments before she sighs and says, “God _damn_ , I thought he’d never go away.”

 

“Cara,” Marie snaps, and Cara just rolls her eyes.

 

“What?  He’s a pig, and I can’t believe Lauren actually thinks she _loves_ him.”

 

Kit looks over at Richard, bewildered, and Richard sighs and scrubs a hand through his hair before saying, “We’re not actually too fond of Caleb.  I’ve only met him a handful of times, but Cara has quite a few stories.”

 

“He’s _vile_ ,” she says, leaning forward, “He drinks too much and thinks he can get away with it just because he lives in _Scotland_ now, for fuck’s sake, and he absolutely _refuses_ to talk about having children, and, _and_ , if that wasn’t enough, he’s homophobic, which is just so stereotypical, and don’t people usually try to _avoid_ stereotypes?  God _damn_.”

 

“ _Cara_ ,” Marie says again, and Cara turns on her mother, brows drawn together in her anger.

 

“What?  _What_?  Do you honestly want your daughter to remain married with that _thing_?  You’re never going to have grandchildren from him, and he doesn’t even approve of your _own son’s_ relationship, and let me just say my peace, but Kit—” she turns her gaze on Kit, and it softens, “You are an amazing person from what little I’ve seen of you tonight, and any man—or woman—would be lucky to have you in their life.  And, I’m sorry, but Caleb should take the stick out of his arse and go fall off a cliff.  I _will not_ let this rest, as I have not for the past four years.  It’s so _stupid_.  This is why I’m never going to America,” she adds in a grumble, folding her arms across her chest, and Marie sighs, but Rory clears his throat, and Marie looks at him in shock at the grin he’s trying to hide.

 

“ _Rory_!” she exclaims, and he breaks, laughing as he looks at his wife.

 

“Marie, I’m sorry, it’s just—she has a point.”

 

Marie’s mouth opens and closes a few times before she huffs and says, “She is _your_ daughter—to the bone,” and gets up, storming out into the kitchen.

 

Cara shrugs and Rory laughs, and then says, “I’m glad you came, Kit.  It’s nice to meet you properly and see what’s been getting Richard all crazy these past couple years.  Ah,” he adds when Marie comes back in with a few glasses.  “You’ll always be my best lass, love,” he says, tilting his head up, and Marie kisses him lightly before heading off down the table and through a doorway at the end.  “C’mon, kids,” he says, getting up and following her.

 

Richard leads Kit through the doorway into a small parlor, where Marie is filling tumblers with a few fingers of whiskey.  Cara comes in chatting with Lauren nix Caleb, who accepts a tumbler from her mother and sits on one of the sofas with her sister.  Richard takes one of the others, pulling Kit down with him, and Marie curls up in an armchair, Rory next to her in another one.  Soon, they’re all drinking and smoking and talking, and it ends up being one of the best nights Kit can remember.

 

When they eventually go to bed, Richard leads them into a guest room and leans against the closed door, fighting a smile as he looks at Kit.  “So?” he says when Kit sits on the bed.

 

“So, your family is awesome,” Kit says, and Richard just grins widely and comes over to him, kissing him on the mouth.

 

“I love you,” he whispers, and then laughs when Kit loops his arms around his waist and pulls him down onto the bed, rolling until he’s hovering over Richard.

 

“I love _you_ ,” he says before leaning down to kiss him.  They fall asleep tangled in each other, breathing in each other until there’s no beginning and end between them.

 

\--

 

_December 25, 2012._

After they’d arrived home in London from Scotland, they took a day to rest and then went to dinner at the Harington’s place, where Deb managed to convince John to bring his girlfriend.  A few days later, they have a double date with Ben and Robert, and then another with Bradley and Colin, and, by the time that’s all said and done, they want nothing more than to hide in their flat.

 

Christmas is creeping up on them when Richard starts disappearing.  When Kit asks where he’s been lately, Richard just smiles and taps his nose, and Kit decides he’s not going to pester him because he’s being secretive with his own plans anyway.  And so, when the day finally does arrive, Richard wakes around eight o’clock, nearly bursting with excitement, and he decides to wake Kit in their favorite way.

 

Kit was all sorts of energy last night, and so he tossed and turned quite a bit, and, when he wasn’t being an octopus, he was sleeping like an Other, face mashed into his pillow, on his belly, and that’s how Richard finds him now, all spread out and pliant.  He smirks victoriously as he carefully pulls the blankets away and looks down the plane of Kit’s body, shoulders to calves, and his cock stirs in his briefs.  Richard settles a few soft fingers between Kit’s shoulders, tracing down his spine and into the dip at the small of his back before he leans forward and hooks his index fingers in his boxers, easing them off his hips.  Kit mumbles in his sleep and shifts, and Richard has to bite back a laugh when he lifts his hips a little, making it easier.

 

“Are you awake?” he whispers.

 

Kit makes a soft noise and then falls silent before huffing out, “No.”  It’s all jumbled and slurred, and Richard knows he’s still mostly asleep, so he tosses Kit’s boxers over the side of the bed, squirms out of his, and then settles back on his side, his right arm curled beneath his head to pillow it and his left hand tracing patterns on Kit’s side and back.  When he dances over the swell of Kit’s ass only to settle and squeeze, Kit breathes out a barely audible laugh and shifts again, legs spreading a little wider.  Richard watches him move, and a soft groan tumbles out of him at the sight, at Kit, all sleepy limbs and spread thighs, pale skin stretching out before him, and it’s all _his_.

 

He leaves Kit’s ass to roll onto his other side and fumble with his bedside table, something he got for himself not too long ago, until he gets the top drawer open and lifts a small bottle of lube out.  Kit makes a noise and his fingers skim over Richard’s back.  Richard looks over his shoulder, and it’s a moment before Kit can manage to form words, and, even then, all he says is, “Mint.”  Richard bites his lip and obeys, dropping the lube back to get another one, in a smooth green tube.  He and Kit had been out shopping one day, and he’d managed to lose Kit only to wander about and finally find him looking, slack-jawed, at different kinds, a mint one in his hand.  “We _have_ to try this,” he’d said, pushing it into Richard’s hand, “It sounds _amazing_.”  They haven’t yet, and Richard’s kind of excited to find out just what it’ll do to Kit.

 

He rolls onto his back, tilting his head over to look at Kit, who’s still got his face mashed into the pillow, mostly hidden, and whose breathing is fading slowly back to real sleep.  He lets his eyes rake over his body for a few moments before he uncaps the bottle and upends a small amount in his palm, rubbing it around until it warms, and then he wraps a hand around his own dick and slowly drags up.  A groan stutters out of him, and he tips his head back, hips pushing off the bed.  “ _Kit_ , fuck,” he says on an exhale, and he turns his head to find Kit’s eyes open, watching him intently, brown slowly fading out to black.  He still looks sleepy otherwise, but his eyes are fixated on Richard’s hand, curled tightly around his cock.

 

“Mint?” he mumbles, and Richard nods, setting an easy, slow pace, just enough to get him hard.

 

“ _Shit_ ,” he gasps, “You’re gonna love this.”  Kit makes some noise of consent, and Richard looks back at him, grinning when he finds him watching the slow drag of Richard’s hand.  All for show, on the slide up, he rubs his thumb over the head, letting a soft whine out as he does, and Kit shifts against the bed, a breathy little moan escaping his mouth.  “Yeah?” Richard says, breathless, and Kit is suddenly moving, pushing up off the bed and leaning over to steal Richard’s mouth in a blinding kiss.

 

When he pulls back, Richard is panting.  “Someday,” Kit says, kissing the corner of his mouth, “Someday, you’re gonna have a wank, and you’re gonna let me watch, mkay?  Because I think I just developed a new kink, thank you very much, you damn Scotsman.”  Richard laughs, grinning, and Kit kisses him again before dropping back down onto the bed and rolling onto his back, stretching languidly.  Richard watches him, squeezing a hand tightly up his cock as he does because _goddamn Kit fucking Harington_ , is all he can think, watching the way he arches a little up off the bed, cat-like in his stretch, his dick resting lazy and half-hard against his thigh.

 

He releases his cock when Kit stops stretching, and then he’s rolling up onto his knees, and Kit’s shifting closer to the center of the bed and spreading his legs.  He’s got his eyes closed, and his breathing is still a little slower than normal, and Richard just wants to ruin him.  He settles between Kit’s legs, coating his fingers liberally before he’s bending to kiss slowly down Kit’s chest, pausing at each nipple to tease it with tongue and teeth.  He rubs the pad of his index finger over Kit’s hole, watching as his hand twitches minutely in the sheets, his breath hitching up a little faster.  He waits until Kit settles again, and then he eases his finger in, mouthing down until he’s taking the head of his cock in his mouth and sucking gently.  Kit swears and fists his hand in the sheets, head tipping back as Richard crooks his finger and smirks.

 

He pulls out and adds another, and Kit groans, pushing down onto his fingers.  “Jesus _fucking_ —” he breaks off, palm smacking down on the mattress as he lifts up and rocks down again, breath shaking out of him.  Richard takes him deeper in his mouth, free hand coming up to curl around the base of his cock, and, when his mouth reaches his hand, he scissors his two fingers and then curls them upward, passing over Kit’s prostate.

 

Kit _keens_ , hips snapping down against Richard’s hand, his head tipping further back, and Richard just sets a torturous pace with his mouth, fingers matching his tongue.  When he slides a third finger in, Kit lets out a little cry and Richard tilts his head forward, Kit’s fingers fisting tightly in his curls almost immediately.  He mouths up until he’s at the head again, and he curls his tongue around the slit before releasing his cock and leaning up into Kit’s hand, gaze flicking up to his face.  Kit meets his eyes, mouth open in a pant, and Richard just smirks before pulling his fingers out and slamming them back in, setting a quick, harsh rhythm that has Kit letting out a soft scream, bowing off the bed, and tugging just this side of pain on Richard’s curls.

 

“Fuck, fuck— _shit_ , _Richard_ — _stop_ ,” he growls, pulling at him, and Richard slides his fingers out to lean up his body and kiss him until Kit’s tipping his head back and gasping for breath.  Richard mouths down his throat until he reaches that damned collarbone, nipping up along it until he bites, and Kit’s breath whines out through his nose as his hand slides through Richard’s curls and to the base of his head, holding him there.  He makes the skin red and angry before he kisses it wetly and then he looks up, and Kit’s still trying to catch his breath.  “ _Mint_ ,” he says, and Richard laughs softly.

 

“Yeah?” he asks, kissing him.

 

“Fuck yeah,” Kit says when he pulls away, “I think I’ve died, actually.”

 

“Well, that’s good to know.”

 

“Oh, stop being cheeky, you arse,” Kit says, tugging playfully at his curls.  Richard just grins and kisses him again, and he gets lost in Kit’s mouth, always his downfall.  They stay there, kissing lazily for a few minutes, just tasting each other until Kit groans and pulls away, leaning up to kiss Richard’s nose before saying, “Stop teasing and fuck me, Richard.”

 

Richard kisses him once more, fast and hard, and then he’s leaning up and away, settling on his heels and reaching for the lube.  He gets it warm in his palm before rubbing a hand over his cock, enjoying himself, and Kit watches, eyes wide and lower lip pulled in between his teeth.  He laughs when Kit bats a hand at his thigh, and then he’s pulling Kit up into his lap and guiding his cock to his ass, and Kit lifts up toward him, whining.

 

Richard pushes in slowly, savoring in the noise it tears from Kit’s throat, a high keen of bliss, and he stills once he’s inside, leaning down until he’s covering Kit and kissing him, nice and easy until Kit’s down from that high and just right here with him.  Then he pulls away from the kiss and slides out and back in, soft and slow until Kit’s brushing his nose up alongside Richard’s and mumbling, “Not gonna fuck me?”

 

“Nope,” Richard says, kissing the corner of his mouth, “Do you want me to?”

 

“Not really,” Kit admits, smiling, “This is much better.”

 

They stay like that, pressed close together, Richard setting a breathtakingly slow pace, an easy build upward as they share breath, mouths fused together endlessly, Kit’s hands fluttering everywhere over Richard’s body, everywhere he can reach.  The early morning sun gets brighter as they make love and basks them in warmth, shedding golden light around and between them until Kit’s eyes are bright.  Richard kisses up around his face, and Kit smiles when he kisses at his crow’s feet before pecking him on the nose and then following the line of his cheekbone to his ear and down until he’s marking a path along his neck and throat.

 

Richard shifts, sliding in a little harder, and Kit gasps out a moan, hand tightening a little in Richard’s curls.  He fastens onto Kit’s shoulder, sucking a mark there and licking it after, and then Kit’s pulling at him until they’re kissing again, a little faster as Richard rocks in and out of Kit a little quicker.  It’s a languid climb, and when Kit hooks a leg up over Richard’s side, heel settling in the small of his back, the other still bent at his side, he knows Kit’s close but still climbing.  He leans away from Kit’s mouth to press their foreheads together, just breathing him in, blue eyes holding brown, and they find the edge that way, drinking in each other until Kit gasps, heel pressing in against Richard’s back, and he lifts away to let Kit tip his head back, pushing closer to Richard, a groan building in his throat until he’s curling a hand around the back of Richard’s neck and bringing him back down.  He swallows down Kit’s moan as he breaks apart, and he follows him over the edge with a soft noise.

 

He pulls back to breathe, but he stays close, tucking his head down in the crook where neck meets shoulder, and Kit holds him there, arms wound tightly around him.  “I love you,” he mumbles after a while of silence, breath ghosting over Richard’s ear.

 

“Mm,” Richard mumbles, kissing his neck, “I love you, too.”  He stays there for a few seconds longer before untangling himself from Kit and sliding out of him.  “Stay here,” he starts to say, but Kit shakes his head and takes his hand, lifting it to kiss his knuckles.

 

“Come shower with me,” he murmurs after, and Richard just nods and follows him out of the bedroom.

 

When they get back into the bedroom, Kit changes into a pair of grey sweats and his white thermal, and Richard catches his wrist when he tries to leave.  “Not yet,” he says, pushing him toward the bed.  He finishes dressing, in black sweats and a loose green t-shirt, and then he goes to stand in front of Kit, stepping in between his knees and curling his hands around his jaw so he can tilt his head up and kiss him.  When he releases him, he says, “So, you and I agreed we would only do one present this year, right?”

 

“Right,” Kit says, “If you broke that—”

 

“I didn’t, hush,” Richard says, tugging on his ear, “Mine’s downstairs, but, before you see it and get all twitchy, I want to say that I’ve already spoken with all the necessary people, and everything’s been sorted, and you don’t have to be all twitchy and worried, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Kit says slowly, and then adds, “I’m a little scared.”

 

Richard just rolls his eyes and steps away, holding out his hand.  Kit takes it, letting Richard pull him to his feet, and Richard leads him out of the bedroom, talking the whole time, “I remember on set, that first day when we were shooting after the beheading, and you kept ranting about how adorable they were, and then we weren’t using the pups anymore because they had to grow faster than they actually could, so we had those older ones, and you bonded so quickly with yours.”

 

“Richard,” Kit says as they reach the bottom of the stairs, “You didn’t.”

 

“Everytime I saw you, cos we were still close, then, even with you at the Wall, you were _always_ with him, and then they asked each of us at the end of the first season filming, and you wanted to so bad, but you didn’t, remember, cos of the flat and the possibility of going elsewhere to film for the second season.  And you said no, but you’re always shitting about how you wished you hadn’t had to say no, to me and to Rose and to John and anyone who will listen.”

 

“ _Richard_.”

 

They come around the sofa, and there he is, a beautiful white Inuit, so familiar that it makes Kit’s heart ache.  He looks up as they stop, and Kit holds his breath, waiting, as he knows Richard is, but then the Inuit is leaping up from the sofa and crashing into Kit, and he laughs, releasing Richard’s hand to bury his fingers in the white fur and drop to a knee so the dog can lick his face.

 

“I was hoping he’d remember you,” Richard says softly, looking on.

 

“How did you even—” Kit begins, but Richard cuts him off as he steps past them and sits on the sofa.

 

“You remember how we got the first five Inuits, and they were late getting Ghost because he was from somewhere else, and when he finally got on set, you and me were hanging out, waiting for shooting to start, and they called him Ghost, and you were so shocked.  But they’d given him that name when he was born because he was so quiet and sneaky, and they used to call him a little ghost before they finally gave him a name, and we were all so amazed that they’d managed to find a dog for your direwolf with the same exact name.”

 

“This is _him_?  _Ghost_?” Kit says, looking over at Richard.

 

“Yeah, it’s him.  And, before you start getting twitchy, I’ve already spoken to our landlord, and, honestly, I’m not even surprised she agreed, she adores you so much.  And I’ve also spoken to DB and David, and they’ve said he can come onset with you.  The obnoxiously long adoption process is done, too, and he’s been staying with Bradley and Colin the past couple days.”

 

“You shit, _that’s_ why it took you so long to get ice cream last night?”

 

Richard just shrugs, and then Kit’s standing and crossing over to him where he kisses him hard, hands cupped around his face.  When he pulls back, he’s beaming, and Richard returns it, feeling just a little giddy that he got this so right.  Ghost nudges at the back of Kit’s knee, and Kit breaks into a _giggle_ , turning.  “Hey Ghost,” he says, hand coming up to pet along his face and the top of his head, “I missed you.”

 

Ghost huffs a small noise and presses his wet nose against Kit’s palm before licking his wrist, and Kit looks back at Richard, his eyes a little glassy.  “Thank you,” he murmurs, and Richard just nods.  Kit releases Ghost and goes to sit by him, taking Richard’s hand before he says, “Ghost, to me,” and practically squeaks when Ghost jumps up onto the sofa and curls up next to him.  “How old is he?” Kit asks, threading his free hand through Ghost’s fur.

 

“He just turned four recently, on the seventeenth.”

 

“Oh my god, it’s Christmas!” Kit exclaims suddenly, and Richard bursts out laughing, leaning into him.

 

“Yes, Kit, very good.”

 

“No, I forgot, your present!  Stay here.”  He jumps up off the sofa, and Ghost follows him at his heels as he runs back upstairs, and Richard watches them go, smiling.  It had been one hell of a time trying to track Ghost down and then the adoption process had been crazily extensive until, finally, three days ago, he’d gone to pick him up and left him at Bradley’s, kneeling down in front of him and promising him he’d be back to get him soon and bring him home to his Jon.  He’d seemed to understand, licking Richard’s face and sitting on his haunches, watching him leave, and then he’d been this little bundle of excitement when he’d gone by Bradley’s last night, jumping around and barking when Richard came inside, and he’d just _known_ he was going to remember Kit.

 

Kit comes back down the stairs talking to Ghost, and it makes Richard’s smile widen as he watches them slip back so easily into what they were.  “Okay,” Kit says as he sits by him again, his hands behind his back, “This has three parts, but you only get one part today and the other two in February.”

 

“February, huh?” Richard says with a small grin, and Kit huffs at him.

 

“Asshat,” he says, but he’s smiling, “Yes, I’m coming to visit on our anniversary, that’s the second part, but there’s _three_.”

 

Richard just smiles at him, and so Kit takes his hands from his back and offers him a small envelope.  He opens it curiously, looking up at Kit before he peeks inside, and then he blinks, disbelieving.  He slides the tickets out onto his palm, _plane_ tickets to _Italy_ , and he just gapes at them for a few moments before looking up at Kit.  “What’s the third part?” he asks, and Kit grins, but doesn’t say a word.  “ _Kit_.”

 

“Nope, you’ll find out in February.”

 

“I’ve always wanted to go to Italy,” Richard says softly, looking back down at them.

 

“I know,” Kit says, “And now we are, on vacation.”

 

“For how long?” he asks, looking back up.  Kit just nods toward the envelope, and he looks back in, upending a folded paper on top of the tickets.  He opens it and reads it over, gasping and smacking at Kit until he laughs and grabs hold of his wrist.  Richard keeps flapping his hand until he finishes reading and then he’s in Kit’s lap, pushing him back against the sofa and kissing him quiet.  “A _month_!” he says, smacking Kit’s chest, and Kit just laughs and nods.

 

“Yeah.  We have a room booked in Venice for the first two weeks, and then a beach house in Sicily for the last two.”

 

“I love you,” Richard says, kissing him again, “Thank you.”

 

Kit just taps him on the nose, and then laughs when Ghost lays his head on Kit’s shoulder, looking up at Richard.  They spend their Christmas like that, all snuggled up, watching specials on the telly and playing with Ghost, and it’s perfect.

 

\--

 

_January 27, 2013._

It occurs to Richard all at once.

 

He’s just finished up a scene with Oona, and they’re taking a break while the crew resets a few things.  The wolf playing Grey Wind is curled up at his side, and he’s slowly dragging his fingers through its fur.  Its trainer is nearby just in case, as he always is, but Richard and the wolf have been getting along amazingly.  Oona’s telling him about this boy her sister has been dating when it happens.

 

“She’s only just met him, and she’s been going on and on about what their children will look like.  _And_ , she keeps sending me these god awful bridesmaids dress ideas.  Three months, and she thinks they’re going to be married.”

 

“I take it you don’t like him?” Richard asks, looking over at her with a small grin.

 

“Oh hush,” she says, pushing him lightly, “I don’t mind him, I just think she’s being ridiculous.  I think, to be married, you have to had at least one good _terrible_ fight, as well as have been together for at least over a year, and living together!  They’re not even _living together_!”

 

“One good terrible fight?” Richard repeats, laughing, and Oona rolls her eyes.

 

“You know, like—oh, you’re so difficult.  Look at it this way.  You and Kit have been together how long?”

 

“Almost two years.”

 

“And have you had a really awful fight in that time?  Like, a true fight, where you’re screaming at each other and then you end up feeling all horrible after.”

 

“Yeah,” Richard admits, turning his attention back to the wolf.  He hates to think about that, Kit’s broken sob as they collapsed onto the floor, the way his whole body shook, but he hates even more to think that, for even a moment, he’d imagined his life without Kit, and he’d felt like someone had dug a hole inside of him and filled it with ice.  That one split second where he’d thought how it would be, and he knew that he’d be torn inside out until he’d forget how living was supposed to be done alone.

 

“And you live together, right?  So there you go, ideal situation.  Jess, though, she and _Alexander_ still live two hours apart, most of their relationship is gushing over how much they miss each other over skype, and she thinks they’re to be husband and wife?  Gods, it’s annoying.”  Richard looks back over at Oona, frowning, and she quirks an eyebrow at his expression.  “What?  Don’t even tell me you don’t agree.”

 

“No, it’s just—” he breaks off, brow furrowing as he looks down at the wolf, thinking of Kit revealing he was going to visit on their anniversary, the second part of the Christmas present, and, like a dam breaking, it all comes flooding together until the pieces are slotted just right.  “Oh _fuck_ ,” Richard gasps, pushing up off the bench and pacing away from Oona.

 

“Richard?” she asks, and he turns to face her, “Is everything alright?”

 

“Yeah, I—I just, uhm—I’ll be right back.”  He hurries out of the tent after that, eyes frantic as he searches the set until he sees a PA loitering nearby.  He makes for him, grabbing onto his sleeve, and demanding, “Have you seen Michelle?”

 

“She was over with Gwen a few minutes ago.”

 

“And Nikolaj?”

 

“Uh—I’m not sure.  Is something wrong?”

 

“No, no.  Cheers,” he mumbles before heading off in the direction the PA had pointed, his hands shaking until he hides them under his cloak and quickens his stride.  He sees Gwen first, and Michelle stands up at the sight of him, frowning.

 

“Richard,” she says, coming over and putting a hand on his cheek, “You’re white as a ghost.  Has something happened?”

 

“Have you seen Nikolaj?”

 

“He just went to get some coffee.  Richard—”

 

“I need you.  Can you— _Michelle_.”

 

“Gwen, I’ll be back, just a moment.”  Gwen nods as Michelle takes Richard’s arm and leads him away, waving to Nikolaj as she sees him exiting the foods tent.  He makes his way toward them, and Michelle leads Richard into an empty tent, sitting him on the bench and taking a seat next to him.  “What’s wrong?” she asks, taking one of his hands and holding it between both of hers.

 

Nikolaj steps inside, offering a cup of tea to Michelle.  He looks long at Richard, confusion writ all over his face, and it’s a few moments, and a very deep breath, before Richard finally says, “I think Kit’s going to—to, uhm— _shit_.”

 

Michelle looks over at Nikolaj, who shakes his head, and then turns back to Richard.  “Richard, what is it?”

 

He looks up at her and holds her gaze for a second before saying, “I think he’s going to propose.”  Color floods back into his cheeks, and Richard looks down at his lap, biting the inside of his cheek as he fights the sudden urge to smile.

 

Nikolaj sees it, though, and laughs, coming to sit on his other side and bumping shoulders with him.  “Looks to me like that’s not actually such a terrifying prospect to you.”

 

“Bugger off,” Richard mumbles, knocking shoulders again, “It was, and—now it isn’t.”

 

“Did you just figure this out?” Michelle asks.

 

“Yeah, I was with Oona, and she was talking about her sister, and it just—made sense.”

 

“How so?”

 

“For Christmas, we only did one gift each, but his was three parts.  The first, tickets to Italy in the summer, the second, he was going to visit in February, on our anniversary, and the third—it makes sense, doesn’t it?”

 

“That’s actually pretty clever,” Nikolaj admits, leaning back against the table behind them, “Good for him.”  He sends a wink behind Richard’s back at Michelle, who rolls her eyes at him.

 

She pats Richard’s hand and asks, “And why the sudden change of heart now?”

 

“I didn’t really—it just occurred to me, and I was so shocked, but then I started thinking about it, and—well, I mean,” he pauses, looking up at Michelle, “I think I’d like that.”

 

“ _Finally_ ,” Nikolaj groans, and Richard looks at him, bewildered, “It’s not as if everyone has dubbed you the husbands in the north _anyway_.”

 

“What?  They call us that?”

 

“Sorry, mate.  Rose and John started it up beyond the Wall, and then it caught on when Rose was at some event and she was talking to Alfie and Joe, and then _they_ started saying it, and then everyone was.  So, what’s it gonna be, then?  Richard _Harington_?”

 

“Oh, fuck off,” Richard says, but he’s grinning as he gives Nikolaj a shove, “I’ll be keeping my own name, thanks very much.”

 

“But you think you’d say yes?” Michelle asks, and Richard nods slowly.

 

“Yeah.  I do.  I—I love him, and I already knew I wanted to spend my life with him.  I can’t honestly imagine being without him.  It—it’s fucking painful to think of life like that, without him.”  Richard shrugs, and it’s a moment before Nikolaj lets out a loud laugh, standing again.  “What’s so funny?”

 

“Oh, nothing.”  He peeks out the tent and comes back saying, “They’re looking for you.  Go get ‘em, King in the North.”

 

“Thanks, guys.  Really.”

 

“Anytime, sweetie,” Michelle says before he leaves, and Nikolaj watches him go before turning to Michelle, eyebrows lifted.  “Do you want to give him a ring?”

 

“Yeah, you’ve got a scene to film, and I won’t be able to get away from him later.  I’m pleased for them.”

 

“Me too,” Michelle says, standing, “They’re already adorable together, I can only imagine how they’ll be now.”

 

“Sickening, surely,” Nikolaj mutters with a smile, and then Michelle’s leaving him and he’s off to find his PA.  Once he’s retrieved his phone, he walks away from set until it’s quiet, and he dials Kit’s number, waiting.  He gets his voicemail, though he’d expected as much, and he waits until he hears the beep before he begins, “Hey, it’s Nikolaj.  Just wanted to let you know that Richard just pulled Michelle and me aside because he figured it out, and you have got yourself one ecstatic Scotsman, Kitty.  I’ll be around later if you’re all twitchy.  Cheers.”  He hangs up after that and grins at his phone for a moment before heading back to set.

 

\--

 

_February 17, 2013._

Kit smiles as he watches Ghost nose at a small puddle, shake his head, and pad in a circle before he slowly makes his way back over to where Kit’s waiting.  It was hell making the arrangement for Ghost to come with him, but he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him behind, and Richard had been eager to see him again, so now here they are, at an airport waiting for Nikolaj.  He shows up fifteen minutes late apologizing profusely, and Kit just laughs at him and piles into the car, dropping his backpack behind him and letting Ghost clamber up onto his lap in the front.

 

“ _Damn_ ,” Nikolaj says as Kit rolls down the window and lets Ghost hang out of it, one hand threaded loosely through the fur at his shoulder, a reminder to Ghost of where they are and who they’re with.  He behaves, settling comfortably in Kit’s lap, his head leaning on the windowsill as he watches the scenery pass by.

 

“Yeah, he’s big,” Kit says with a fond smile, carding his fingers through his soft white fur.

 

“And that’s the one you used before the wolf?”  Kit nods, and Nikolaj just gives Ghost a last approving look.

 

“So, uhm—he knows?” Kit asks later, when they’re pulling into set.

 

“He did, but he hasn’t talked about it since I called you, and he completely forgot you were coming.  It’s been crazy around here, and they’re getting closer to the Red Wedding, so he’s been in his head a little.  You picked a good time to come, to be honest.  Distraction will be good for him.  Oona says he hasn’t been talking that much.”

 

“I can’t imagine not being on this set next year.  I’m just hoping he finds something else for work.”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Nikolaj laughs, getting out, “Everyone’s gonna want a piece of Robb Stark.”

 

Kit follows him, and Ghost paces around his legs, uneasy.  Kit kneels, running a hand over his head and giving him a quick scratch under the ear.  “Hey,” he says, and Ghost looks up at him, holding his gaze for a moment before he drops to his haunches and pushes into Kit’s palm.  “I know, it’s new and scary, but Richard is here.  Remember him?”  Ghost blinks at him, and Kit laughs, scratching him again.  “You will.  Come on.  With me,” he commands, standing, and Ghost follows at his side obediently.  Nikolaj leads him onto set, and Kit laughs.  “You weren’t kidding,” he says, jerking his chin toward where Maisie is playing a hand game with Oona.

 

“Yeah, Maisie and Rory got here a couple days ago.  Gwen and I have been filming an hour south of here, and Maisie and Rory have been filming an hour north where they’ve been doing some of the outside scenes first.  Richard and Michelle are going to be in Belfast for the final scenes later, though.”

 

“ _Kit_!” Maisie shrieks suddenly, and Ghost’s ears perk up at the noise, recognizing her voice.  Kit laughs and heads for Maisie, who runs full tilt toward him, and he catches her when she jumps up into his arms, hugging him tightly.  “What are you doing here?” she asks when he lets her down and she goes to say hello to Ghost, rubbing her face against his.

 

“Visiting,” he says with a shrug, “How’ve you been?”

  
“Good, Rory’s such a goof.  We’ve been having a great time, but we’re not filming right now _because_ I’m on duty, let’s go.”  She takes Kit’s hand and Nikolaj laughs, waving as he walks away.  Kit allows Maisie to tug him along, and they pause at the trailers where she opens Richard’s with a spare key so Kit can leave his backpack, and then she hands him the spare and tugs him along away from the trailers and into the heart of the set.

 

Kit spots him immediately, the big furs wound around his neck, his auburn curls tousled above them, Michelle at his side, laughing at some story he’s telling, though she looks over at their approach and smiles, touching his arm.  He falls silent, and Kit can see Michelle’s mouth form his name, and then Richard’s turning, a brilliant smile on his face.  Kit waves, Ghost barks, and Richard excuses himself, coming over.  Maisie disappears before Richard reaches them, and Kit’s glad for it because he doesn’t know if he’d have been able to stop himself.  Richard opens his mouth to say something, and Kit just shakes his head and steps into his space, kissing him silent, hands curled around his costume and pulling him closer.  When they part, someone whistles, and Richard blushes.  “Hey,” he says softly, beaming, and Kit kisses him again, soft and quick.

 

“Hey,” he says when he pulls back again, “I missed you.”

 

“Kit,” Richard says, reaching up to curl his hands over Kit’s where they rest in his costume, “I missed you so much.  I’ve, uhm—I’ve just got a few more scenes, and then I’ve got the rest of the afternoon off.”

 

“Good,” Kit says, kissing him a last time before stepping back, “Because I’ve got plans.”

 

Ghost barks, and Richard laughs, kneeling to say hello.  “Sorry to interrupt,” Michelle says as she comes over, “But we’ve got to get back.  Hello, Kit.”

 

“Michelle,” he says, embracing her, “I trust you’ve been taking care of my King.”

 

“Word has it there’s going to be a new Commander on the Wall next season.  They should be calling you two the royal husbands in the north.”  Kit laughs, Richard blushes furiously, and Michelle just shrugs and smiles, leading Richard away.

 

Kit goes to find where Nikolaj and Maisie disappeared to, and he spends the next few hours with them, Oona, and Rory until he gets a text from Richard, _where’d you go?  I’m heading back to the trailer_ , and he excuses himself, taking Ghost back through to the maze of trailers until he’s letting himself into Richard’s empty trailer.  “Ghost,” he says, pointing toward the sofas in the lounge, “Stay.”

 

Ghost jumps up onto one of the sofas, curling up, and Kit makes his way back toward the bedroom, taking his backpack with him.  He kicks off his shoes and shrugs out of his jacket before texting Richard back, _I may be in your shower, thinking about you._ He grins and leaves his phone on the dresser before shimmying out of his trousers, tugging off his shirt, and heading for the bathroom.  The showers are small on the trailers, but not small enough that two people can’t fit together mostly comfortably.

 

He’s just got the water on and is stepping inside when he hears the door open and then the lock click, and he nearly laughs.  “Kit?” Richard calls, his voice echoing through the trailer as Kit lets the hot water beat over him, his fingers dancing lazily over his slowly filling cock.  The bathroom door opens a minute later, and Kit looks over to the outer glass wall, just transparent enough that Richard will be able to see his silhouette, so he stops screwing around and gives his cock a slow tug, groaning softly.  Richard swears and struggles out of his clothes before he’s yanking the door open and stepping inside, gaze raking over Kit, from curls to toes and lingering on his hand, moving in easy strokes over his dick.  “ _Fuck_ ,” he groans before he’s stepping forward, and Kit’s pushing away from the wall and meeting him until they’re kissing, hard and messy and fast.

 

“Gods, I missed you,” Kit gasps against his mouth as he kisses away down his jaw and attacks his neck, backing Richard into the wall and nipping down his throat until he bites at the hollow there, and Richard moans, hips pushing up against Kit’s, half-hard cock brushing along his own.  Kit echoes his moan, reaching between them to fist both of their dicks in a loose grip, the water running around and between them acting as lube.

 

“Kit—Kit,” Richard says, tugging at his curls, and Kit kisses him quiet until they’re both breathless.  “I need to be inside you,” he pleads, fingers fisted tightly in his curls, “Please.”

 

Kit groans and kisses him again.  “Fuck yes,” he says when he pulls back, already turning.  He grabs a bottle of conditioner and Richard’s hand appears at his elbow, palm up, so he upends some there and then braces his hands against the wall, head tipping forward.  Richard’s fingers are slick and cool at his ass, and it makes him hiss in a breath at the temperature, but then Richard’s sliding two fingers inside him, and Kit shouts, jerking forward.  Richard soothes him with his mouth over the back of his shoulders, and then he’s kissing slowly at the top of his spine, and Kit comes undone, relaxing and rocking back down on Richard’s quick fingers.

 

He stretches him with haste, but also with care, and only when Kit starts swearing at him and says, “I’m ready.  Come on, _Richard_ ,” does he slick his cock and steady one hand on Kit’s hip, the other guiding his cock to Kit’s entrance.  He bites his lip when Kit makes this high whine in the back of his throat, pushing back against Richard, his whole body thrumming with want, and so Richard slams inside, gasping as he’s enclosed in heat and tightness and Kit’s broken cry.

 

Richard fucks him fast and hard, and Kit’s voice tears them both apart until Richard’s curling a hand around Kit’s cock and matching the rhythm of his thrusts.  Neither of them last long, and the water is teetering toward cold when they finish, gasping, pressed close together.  When Kit turns around, though, Richard kisses him messily, so much built up longing and lust churning in his belly still.  Kit is panting when he releases his swollen mouth, and he bites at his bottom lip before saying, “I am so not done with you yet.”

 

“ _God_ ,” Kit groans, pulling Richard back toward him.

 

Somehow, they shower.  It’s all lingering touches and long kisses, and the water is freezing by the time they finally finish up and get out, shivering.  Richard tosses Kit a towel before wrapping one around his waist.  He’s barely got into the bedroom when Kit is suddenly behind him, mouthing at the back of his neck and making Richard’s breath hitch against the attention.  His cock stirs beneath the towel, and he turns, claiming Kit’s mouth and moving them until Kit’s knees hit the back of the bed, and he goes down, pulling Richard with him.  They untangle themselves from the towels and slide back together, naked bodies slotting perfectly together.

 

“Can I—” Richard starts to say, but breaks off when Kit begins a trail down his front.  He pauses to nip at his belly before looking up at Richard, curious.  Richard blinks at him, entranced, until Kit smirks and bites his belly again, and then Richard remembers his words, “Can I request something?”

 

“Of course,” Kit mumbles before he licks a stripe of Richard’s cock, and, without preamble, takes the head into his mouth and sucks, tongue dragging over the slit.  Richard cries out, struggling to remain on the bed, and he can practically feel Kit’s victorious smirk.  He lets him go with a wet pop and then props his elbows up either side of Richard’s hips and rests his chin on his knuckles.  “Your request?” he prompts, and Richard nods slowly.

 

“I want you on top,” he says, and Kit stares at him for a moment, eyes getting impossibly darker before he nods and clambers off the bed, padding over to his backpack.  Richard watches him, nibbling on his lip at the movement of muscle in Kit’s back as he squats and rifles through his backpack until he stands, a green bottle in his hand.  Richard grins, and Kit just shrugs.

 

“Seriously, this shit makes me delirious,” Kit says, coming back over and settling over Richard, knees on either side of his ribs.  His toes tuck in along Richard’s thighs, and Richard shifts a little, cock sliding over the swell of Kit’s ass, just to watch Kit’s eyes flutter closed and his breath hitch up a little faster.  “Arsehole,” he mumbles when Richard settles against the bed again, and then it’s Richard’s turn to be speechless when Kit coats his own fingers and rises up a little on his knees, bracing one hand behind him against Richard’s thigh and the other sliding down his ass and between to stretch himself.

 

“ _Shit_ ,” Richard groans, watching him.  Kit slides two fingers inside, gasping and rising a little higher, the muscles in his thighs jumping and twitching until Richard’s hands are there, fingers digging in.  Kit’s breath whines out, and he pushes back down on his own hand, nails scraping against Richard’s thigh and toes curling.  “ _God_ , Kit,” he says, wetting his lips.

 

Kit’s whine pitches higher when he slides a third finger in, and then his hips are moving in slow, unconscious movements, his cock heavy and leaking, curled up against his belly.  Richard massages his fingers against his thighs, watching, mesmerized, until Kit is gasping suddenly, hand coming out to slam against the mattress, his body curling forward until he’s kissing Richard breathless.  When he pulls back, pressing his forehead against Richard’s, he’s struggling to catch his breath.  Richard tips his head up, kissing him slow until Kit’s pulling away again and straightening, flashing Richard a grin before he upends minty lube into his palm, warming it before he reaches behind him again and pulls a slow, tight hand up Richard’s cock, grin widening as Richard’s hips twitch upward, barred by Kit’s body.  “Ready?” he asks after a few teasing strokes, and Richard nods fervently.

 

He’d thought watching Kit stretch himself was something to behold, but then Kit’s rising high on his knees, bracing his left hand against his thigh again, and taking hold of the base of Richard’s cock with his right, and watching Kit slowly lower himself down is something else entirely.  He throws his head back at the first nudge, his chest heaving, and goes down torturously, savoring the stretch and burn until he’s filled with Richard, his thighs trembling from the effort.  He’s still for a few seconds until Richard settles his hands over his hips, thumbs rubbing up over the protruding bones there, and then he meets Richard’s gaze and starts to move, slow at first, hips rolling up and down, Richard meeting him thrust for thrust.

 

The slow pace doesn’t last long, though, and, soon, Kit’s moving in earnest, ass slapping down against Richard’s hips until Richard’s whole body is coiled tight with the sight of Kit riding him.  “ _Kit_ ,” he groans out, bringing his legs up, and Kit slows, looking down at him, and his grin slots into place when Richard unbalances him, and they roll, Kit’s back hitting the bed.  Richard hooks one leg up over his shoulder, and Kit swears and groans, bringing the other to hitch around Richard’s ribs, heel pressing into the small of his back.

 

“Fuck me,” he begs, whining a little, and Richard obeys, reaching up to curl one hand over the headboard and the other to curl around Kit’s hip.  The first thrust has Kit bowing off the bed and crying out, and Richard moans and buries his face in Kit’s neck, settling into a brutal rhythm that has Kit arching closer to him, blunt nails scraping over his back and shoulders, legs tight around him.  He slides over his prostate on every hard thrust until Kit’s voice is a broken litany of Richard’s name, his fingers digging into the back of his neck, his cock throbbing between them.

 

Richard kisses him, swallowing down every moan until he can feel the familiar tightening in Kit’s body, and he slides a hand between them and takes Kit’s cock in hand, fingers tight and relentless.  Kit breaks from the kiss, voice pitching high and thin, head slamming back into the pillow until Richard is biting at the column of his throat, breath stuttering out of him as his thrusts turn erratic and Kit’s heel digs into his back as he presses impossibly closer.

 

“ _Fuck_ , Richard— _Richard_ ,” he gasps, and then he chokes off into a scream as he claws at Richard’s shoulder, the other tight in his curls, his ass clenching spasmodically around Richard’s cock as he comes between them, shaking.  Richard whines into Kit’s neck, chasing after him, thrusting shallowly until he’s finishing with a shout, hips staggering forward and then rocking hard and fast until he’s blind to his orgasm.

 

When he can see clearly again, Kit is panting, boneless beneath him, and he carefully lowers his legs back to the bed, leaning forward to kiss him.  Kit makes a noise when he starts to move, arms winding around him.  “Not yet,” he mumbles, holding Richard close, and Richard stays, kisses him until they’re both breathless, and then he just rests his head against Kit’s, eyes closed.

 

Much of their afternoon is spent in bed, sometimes just cuddling, limbs tangled together, though, once, Richard pulls Kit toward him and kisses him for long minutes until he leaves him and kisses down his front and to his cock, and he finishes him that way, and then Kit, loose-limbed and grinning, sits on Richard’s thighs and jerks him off, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, until he’s licking the mess off Richard’s belly.

 

They leave only to go to dinner and walk Ghost, and Kit’s just crawling under the blankets, sleepy looking, when Richard slowly unbuttons his shirt, and Kit groans, watching him.  “Are you stripping for me?  Because that’s a thing I’d like very much,” Kit says, and Richard just grins and continues.

 

An hour later, when they’re both easing away from their high, Kit tangles his arms around Richard and pulls him as close as he can get him, kissing his mouth and then up over his face until he’s just holding him, and Richard settles into his arms and closes his eyes, just breathing him in.  That’s when he notices that Kit’s trembling a little, and he finds he can’t swallow past the sudden lump in his throat.  “Kit—” he begins.

 

“Be quiet,” Kit cuts him off, “I can read your thoughts, remember?  So just—don’t.”

 

Richard hides his smile in Kit’s neck for a few seconds before leaning up and kissing him.  “I just wanted to say that I love you,” Richard whispers, and Kit turns his gaze down and holds it.  He huffs out a breath, and Richard tries to bite back his smile, so Kit just flicks him on the nose and releases him, rolling onto his back and reaching over the side of the bed where his backpack rests.  Richard takes a few steadying breaths, but his heart is stuttering out of rhythm, and he feels like he might burst.

 

When Kit rolls back onto his side again, facing Richard, his left hand is closed, and he’s staring at Richard.  “Promise you love me?” he mumbles, and Richard responds by kissing him softly.

 

He settles again and says, “Of course I do.  I always will.”

 

“I know you know.”

 

“Those bastards!” Richard exclaims, genuinely surprised, “They told you?”

 

“They were in on it from the beginning,” Kit reveals, shrugging one shoulder, and then he’s smiling, shy and small and so damn adorable Richard just wants to kiss him over and over.

 

“In all fairness,” Richard says, “It was only a guess.  I was pretty confident about it, but I don’t actually know anything.”

 

“In that case,” Kit starts, letting out a shaky breath, “I have the third part of your Christmas present with me, and I just—I know you’re twitchy about things like I am, but I’ve been thinking about this for a long time now, and I—I want to spend the rest of my life right here with you.  I want to wake up every morning, and the first thing I see to be your face every single time.  I want to have sore arms and cold feet, and I want to be shouted at in drunk Gaelic, and I want to listen to the Pogues more than should be necessary, and I want it all to be with you because I love you, and I want to love you forever, and I know I will, and—damn it, Richard, stop smiling like that, I’m going to smack you.”

 

Richard can’t help the small laugh that escapes him, and then he claps a hand over his mouth, but it doesn’t matter because his beam is so huge he thinks it’s going to crack his face in half, and he may even be about to cry.  “I love you,” he mumbles, and Kit opens his hand.

 

Laying on his palm are two silver rings, just thin bands, and Richard breath leaves him in a half sob as he flicks his eyes from the rings to Kit’s face, waiting.  “I want—” he begins, taking one of the rings from his palm and holding it out, “—to be husbands in the north, for real.  I want—to marry you, if you would have me.”  He listens to Kit’s voice drop out and how he holds his breath, and Richard carefully takes the offered ring and slides it onto the third finger on his left hand, holding Kit’s gaze.

 

“Is Italy our honeymoon?” he asks softly, and Kit nods, still holding his breath.  “Kit,” he breaks, scooting closer to him and kissing him, hand coming up to curl around his jaw.  When he pulls back, he leans their foreheads together, eyes still closed, and says, “Yes.”

 

Kit lets out a little, broken laugh before winding his arms around Richard and pulling him close, and Richard can feel warm wetness on his bare shoulder, so he buries his face in Kit’s neck and stares at the ring, beaming.  After a few moments, Kit pulls back and wipes at his face before laughing and saying, “I’m exhausted, you.”

 

“Me?”

 

“Yes, you, and your damn body.  You exhaust me.”  Richard laughs out loud, rolling onto his back.  Kit calls for Ghost before pulling the blankets over them and curling around Richard, head resting against his chest.  “I love you,” he says softly, and Richard kisses his curls.

 

“I love you, too.”

 

\--

 

_March 12, 2013._

“You are seriously the greatest boyfriend in the entire world,” Kit says as he rolls onto his stomach and accepts the mug of tea Richard’s offering him.

 

“I know,” Richard says smugly, grinning when Kit snorts and sips his tea, “Where does it hurt?”  He settles carefully on the backs of Kit’s thighs, knees spread on either side of him, and Kit just makes a mumbled noise, so Richard rolls his eyes and starts from the bottom.

 

“Fucking _right there_ ,” Kit growls out when he hits his spine.

 

“Think you pulled a muscle?” Richard asks, working his thumbs into the sore spot.  Kit just groans and sets the mug down, dropping his head into his pillow.  Richard fans his fingers out, digging into the surrounding muscles, as well, and he works in silence for a while until Kit lets out this little, breathy moan that makes Richard’s dick twitch with interest in his trousers.  He continues working his fingers over Kit’s back, getting him nice and loose, and the pace of Kit’s breathing has changed, though Richard only notices it because he’s listening for it.

 

He shifts atop him, settling closer to his ass, and Kit groans softly at the feel of the growing bulge in Richard’s trousers.  In response, Richard lets his hands travel back down to the small of Kit’s back, working the slight tension there out even as he leans forward and lays a soft kiss at the top of Kit’s spine, just between his shoulder blades.  He trails down slowly until he’s just past the slope, and then he licks a small stripe and bites.  Kit swears and shudders under Richard’s mouth, and Richard just grins and kisses over the blooming skin before rubbing his beard up along his side and then kissing over to his ribs where he marks him again.

 

He digs his thumbs in a little harder when he kisses around the curve of his shoulder blade, and Kit whines, fingers fisting loosely in the sheets beneath him.  Richard kisses up to the nape of his neck where he bites, hard, and Kit gasps, tipping his head forward to give him better access.  When he finishes there, he mouths up to Kit’s ear and then lets his breath whisper hotly over his skin, “I think I have a remedy for your back.”

  
“Yeah?  What’s that?” Kit says, slurring his words together a little.

 

“I think—” Richard starts, leaning forward to nip at the tip of Kit’s ear and then behind where he murmurs against him, “—you need to be fucked.  Hard—and slow,” before he bites again, and Kit moans.

 

“Richard,” Kit says, shifting, and Richard leans away a little so that Kit can turn his head and look at him.  Kit’s gaze flicks all over his face, and Richard’s hips move subconsciously when Kit pulls in his bottom lip to chew on it.  Finally, he continues, “Hold me down?”

 

“ _Jesus_ , Kit,” Richard groans, leaning their heads together, taking a steadying breath before nodding and saying, “Get the lube.”

 

Kit obeys, stretching over to the bedside table, and Richard makes short work of his trousers and Kit’s sweats before settling between his spread legs.  Kit tosses the mint lube back toward him, and he catches it, biting back a moan when Kit lifts his hips and slides a pillow beneath him.  He curls one hand over the curve of his ass and the other around his groin, just lightly rubbing.  Kit looks back at him, groaning and shifting against the pillow.  “ _Richard_ ,” he whines, and Richard meets his gaze, smirking.

 

He stretches him with slow fingers, mouthing up and down his spine until Kit is sobbing for him to stop teasing, and then he’s taking his hips in hand, thumbs digging in against his back and fingers curling around to fan out over his belly, and easing inside him, a slow burn like Kit loves.  The first time Kit starts to move, Richard takes his right hand from his hip and curls it around his shoulder, pushing him back down against the mattress.  “Stay there,” he commands, and Kit swears around a moan, hips lifting up to meet Richard’s.  He rocks in and out at a torturous pace, rolling in hard on every thrust and rubbing over Kit’s prostate, and, before long, he’s panting above Kit from the effort, his thighs trembling.

 

Kit tries to move again, and Richard just tightens his grip on his shoulder, lifting him up higher on the pillow and fucking into him faster, and Kit starts to lose himself, loosening up until Richard’s sure he has no idea what he’s saying, what he sounds like, but it’s tearing Richard apart until he feels a familiar lick of fire down his spine, and he groans, laying himself flat against Kit’s back to bite at the curve where neck meets shoulder.  Kit shouts and pushes back against Richard, who leaves his shoulder to hold his hips in a bruising grip, slamming in and out quickly now.

 

“ _Richard_ ,” Kit gasps suddenly, reaching back a hand to fist in his curls, and Richard eases his pace slowly, struggling to catch his breath.

 

“What?” he breathes out against Kit’s neck, nosing at his hair.

 

“Wanna see you.”  Richard rocks into him a few more times before groaning and pulling out, leaning back up on his heels, but Kit doesn’t turn onto his back.  Instead, he clambers up onto his knees and jerks his head toward the headboard.

 

“What—”

 

“Just shut up, and get.”  Huffing at him, Richard leans forward and bites the back of his shoulder, right hand coming around to palm over Kit’s leaking cock.  “ _Fuck_ ,” Kit groans, hips twitching up into his touch.  “Richard, _c’mon_ ,” he whines.  When Richard doesn’t stop, he reaches around and smacks him on the arm until Richard releases his shoulder, kisses the angry bruise, and obeys, crawling up the bed to settle against the myriad pillows, back pressing against the headboard.  He starts to say something, but then stops, holding his breath as Kit rises up on his knees before him, takes his cock in hand, and lowers himself down, hand slapping down against the top of the headboard and moaning.  Richard echoes him, hands coming up to settle on his hips as Kit curls his other hand around the headboard, and then it’s a race.

 

Richard tips his head back and lets Kit kiss him fiercely, meeting him thrust for thrust, bodies pressed tightly together until Kit’s gasping and pulling away from his mouth, pressing their temples together.  “ _Shit_ —Richard—fucking hell,” he groans, and Richard moans when Kit’s ass tightens around him, and he knows he’s close if only by the way Kit comes down harder on each thrust, his breath stuttering out of him.  And then he wraps a hand around Kit’s dick and bites his lip as Kit cries out, clenching impossibly tighter around him.  He wraps one strong arm around Kit, nails scraping against his back as he rolls his hips up, head pushing back against the headboard as he feels Kit’s whole body tense up, and then he’s rubbing his thumb over the head of Kit’s cock, and Kit slams his palm against the headboard and comes with a low moan.  Richard fucks up into him shallowly, white creeping in at the edge of his vision until he’s following Kit over the edge, gasping.

 

It takes a few long minutes before either of them can speak, and Kit says, “Your phone was ringing.”

 

“Damn it,” Richard grumbles, patting at Kit’s thigh until he gets off, groaning as he settles against the bed, sprawled naked across the sheets, and Richard stares at him, lust still running rampant through his veins, while he dials Bradley’s number.

 

He pads back over when it starts ringing and crawls up over Kit, kissing him slow and long, breaking away only when Bradley answers, “Hey, I just rang.”

 

“Yeah, sorry, was downstairs, didn’t hear it ring.  What’s up?”  He pulls the phone away, puts it on speaker, and drops it onto Kit’s chest so he can mouth down his front, and Kit tips his head back, biting his lip.

 

“Just wondering if you were free for dinner and drinks tonight.  Colin’s out with some mates, and you said you had news.”

 

“Right,” Richard says, releasing Kit’s nipple to lean his chin on his sternum, “Seven good?  I can come by yours.”

 

“Yeah, that’s perfect.  Hey, it’s, uh—it’s good news, right?”

 

“The best,” Richard says, and Kit looks down at him, beaming, “I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

 

“Cheers,” Bradley says before Richard hangs up, and Kit takes the phone, stretching to put it on Richard’s bedside table.

 

“You were saying?” he says to Richard, who just laughs and kisses him until they’re rolling into a more comfortable position.

 

They spend the rest of the afternoon this way, lounging in bed and watching shit films and having sex, until five thirty comes around, and they shower together, Richard getting in Kit’s way until Kit presses him against the glass wall and kisses him silent, laughing afterward.  Richard’s in the bathroom fixing his hair when Kit’s phone rings, Ben, and he answers by way of, “I can _guarantee_ I’ve fucked around more than you today.”

 

“Oh, no way,” Ben says immediately, “Robert and I literally have not got out of bed once today except to eat and shit.”

 

“For fuck’s sake, really?  That’s gross.”

 

“You’ve had to _at least_ get out of bed more than that, to walk Ghost.”

 

“Arsehole,” he says before putting him on speaker so he can get dressed, “Listen, are you free tonight?”

 

“I can be.  Why?”

 

“I have something to tell you, and it’s really important, so—drinks and dinner?”

 

“Let me guess, Richard’s going out with Bradley, and you’re just a pussy, so you don’t want to be home alone.”

 

“Fuck off, that’s not the only reason.  I really do have news.”

 

“Yeah, okay, I’m free then.  Is that okay?” he adds to Robert, who makes some mumbled response in the background.

 

“Robert says that you can’t have me, sorry.”

 

“I saw your dick first.”

 

“Okay, that’s weird.  The hell are you talking to?” Richard says as he comes into the room.

 

“He says that’s very true, so he guesses it’s okay if I’m allowed out for a night,” Ben replies, and Richard laughs.

 

“Hello, Ben,” Richard calls as he comes over and gives Kit a quick peck on the mouth.

 

“ _Hello, Richard_!” Ben sings, and then Robert’s shouting something incomprehensible, but then Kit’s turning and tugging Richard back toward him for another kiss, this one longer and deeper until Ben’s making gagging noises on the other line.  Kit laughs when they pull away, and Richard goes to finish dressing, smiling.

 

Kit doesn’t know when this happened, when everything really started to slot into place, where he could act like he always had with Ben and Richard would just laugh at them, where his best friend and his fiancé were finally okay enough with each other that they considered each other mates, but he knows it makes him happier than he’s ever been.

 

He finishes making plans with Ben, and he and Richard leave together, Richard kissing him goodbye at his jeep before he heads toward where his SUV is parked behind him, and they head off in opposite directions.  Ben gets in chattering about the lingering winter, but stops almost immediately, looking strangely over at Kit.  “Something happened, something huge,” he says, and Kit just gives him this disbelieving stare.

 

“Seriously, who are you?  What planet did you come from?”

 

“Oh my god, life-altering huge.  Oh, I’m so excited.  Jack’s?  I want a burger.  You have no say in this.”  Kit just laughs and pulls away from Ben’s flat, making for Jack’s, who greets them warmly when they enter, setting them up with two pints before they’ve even sat down.

 

“Food?” he asks, and Ben nods enthusiastically before shedding his jacket and taking a seat at the bar.

 

He turns to Kit, who’s smiling down at his phone, where Richard’s left him a text, _did you let Ghost out before we left?  are you asking Ben to be your best man?  I love you._

“Kit,” Ben says, and he looks up, still smiling stupidly, “Shit man, what happened?”

 

“Hold on,” he says before typing back a response, _yes, mother hen, I did.  and yes, I am—are you asking Bradley?  I love you more._ He sends it, looks back up at Ben, and promptly laughs at his narrowed eyes.  “Okay,” he says, leaning on the bar, “I have a very serious question for you.”

 

“I’m scared.”

 

“Will you be my best man?”

 

Ben blinks rapidly, staring at him, and then he opens his mouth, tries to say something, fails, and then shrieks, “ _Jack_!”

 

Jack comes over looking worried, and Ben starts flapping a hand at him, staring at Kit, who’s trying his hardest not to laugh.  “Dude, _what_?” Jack says, smacking his brother.

 

“ _Kit just asked me to be his best man_!”

 

“Stop shouting,” Kit says, punching him in the shoulder and laughing lightly.

 

“You just asked me to be your best man,” he whispers, still agape, “Holy fucking— _shit_!  _Jack_!”

 

“Jesus fuck, Ben, I _will_ kick you out.”

 

“You’re getting _married_?” Ben asks, slumping against the counter, and then he straightens, holding out both hands, “Wait, to Richard, right?”

 

“Yes, you idiot.”

 

“I just wanted to make sure!” he exclaims, leaning back against the counter again, “ _Damn_ , Kit, when did this happen?  Hey!  Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“ _Ben_ ,” Jack snaps, and Ben sticks his tongue out at him.

 

Their food comes as Kit says, “On our two-year.  I wanted to keep it quiet, and I didn’t tell anyone except Nikolaj and Michelle because I wanted them to keep an eye on him.  I would have told you, but I didn’t want any extra voices buzzing around in my head about it.”

 

“Kit,” he says, and he’s grinning, “I’m so happy for you.  Shit man, that’s so amazing.  Of course I’ll be your best man.  Is Bradley Richard’s?”

 

“Uh,” Kit trails off, fishing out his phone to read Richard’s response, _he started shouting, and we’re in a bar, and we’re being looked at, kit, looked at._ He laughs and texts him back, _at least bradley isn’t related to the bartender so he can get away with flipping his shit._ “Yeah, he’s just told Bradley,” he says to Ben, “It’s just going to be a small thing, just some friends and family, with a thing after.  You can bring Robert, if you want.”

 

“Cheers,” he says as Jack appears with their food, “When is it?”

 

“August, I think.  We have a trip to Italy planned at the end of August, so right before that, probably.”

 

“My little Kitty’s getting married,” Ben sings, leaning over and pulling him into a one-armed embrace, “I can’t wait, mate.  It’s going to be so awesome.”  Kit just smiles and leans into him before they part to eat, and the rest of their night is spent chatting and heckling Jack.

 

\--

 

_August 20, 2013._

They have a small ceremony, just something simple, not in a church, with Nikolaj residing over them.  It’s small and nice, and both their mothers’ cry.  Afterward, they have a reception of sorts at Jack’s because he cleared out the place, and it’s really more of them all just hanging out and catching up, and it’s all sorts of amazing.  That’s the week before their vacation—honeymoon, Richard keeps reminding Kit—and then they’re off to Italy, to a hotel in Venice where they spend their first two days just wandering about, eating in a different place for every meal and getting lost, but even that is enjoyable because then they just meander the streets and canals together, hand in hand, happy to just be _together_.

 

On the third day, Kit whines until Richard concedes to a surprise, and then Kit’s leading him away from their hotel and through the winding streets until they reach a gondola that greets Kit like he was waiting for them, and Richard rolls his eyes.  They sit in the end of the gondola while the gondolier steers them through the waters, and Kit pulls Richard toward him until he’s got him between his legs, leaning back against Kit so that he can wind his arms around him and kiss his temple.  “I love you,” he whispers, and Richard smiles, curling his arms around Kit’s and squeezing him.

 

“I love you, too,” he says, resting his head back against Kit’s chest.

 

They float along like that in silence, just watching the canal go by, until Kit taps his fingers against Richard’s collarbone and says quietly in his ear, “Okay, I’m about to be a total sap, ready?”

 

“You’re cute when you’re being romantic,” Richard murmurs, and Kit tugs on a curl, but he’s smiling.

 

“So, I was doing research after I booked the trip, and I came across this bridge that’s pretty famous, up ahead.”  He points, and Richard looks out to where there’s a beautiful bridge arching high over the canal.  “The Ponte de Sospiri, or the Bridge of Sighs.  It’s said that it got its name because on the left side, there used to be a prison, and, on the right, an execution sight, so prisoners took their last breath going over the bridge.  However, it is also said, that if you kiss under the bridge, your love will be eternal.”

 

Richard laughs softly, tipping his head back to look up at Kit.  “You made that up,” he says, and Kit scoffs at him, mocking offense.

 

“Did not, it’s totally true.”

 

“That’s both the saddest and mushiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

 

“Oh, fuck off,” Kit says, flicking his nose, “I’m sat here trying to be romantic, and you’re turning it on me.  Good thing I didn’t propose to you here, arsehole.”

 

Richard laughs, sitting up and turning halfway so that he can face Kit.  “I love you, Kit Harington.  It’s already eternal.”

 

Kit softens, smiling, and Richard leans forward to kiss him softly.  When they part, Richard’s smirking, and so Kit rolls his eyes and flicks his nose again.  “Come here,” he grumbles, pulling Richard back against him, and they spend the rest of the ride chatting lightly about the beauty of Venice.

 

The next day, after a late night and a later morning, they get brunch at a café down the street, and then head for Saint Mark’s Bell Tower, where Kit starts to geek out a little over Galileo, and Richard makes fun of him until Kit’s threatening to tickle, and then he just crowds into his space and kisses him, in front of everyone around them because he can and it’s the most amazing feeling in the world.

 

“I wonder what it’ll be like when people start to find out,” Richard says as they’re walking through the streets after dinner, under the stars.

 

“Good and bad, probably,” Kit says with a shrug, idly rubbing his thumb in circles over the back of Richard’s hand, “Some people will probably say we’re fucking around for attention, and some will probably say it’s the most adorable thing in the world, which it is.  We—are fucking _adorable_ , Richard.”

 

“You’re such a loser,” Richard laughs, leaning into him, “You really think people will think we’ve done all this for attention?”

 

“I mean, I guess.  We’ve already heard it before, after the premiere when we went together.  People were saying shit that night, and still have been, I’m sure.  I don’t really check, but sometimes, you know—curiosity.”

 

“Speaking of cats, we should call Bradley and see how Ghost’s doing.”

 

“He hates being left alone,” Kit says, “He always looked so sad when I got home from shooting in Iceland, but then he was such a lovebug once he got over it.”

 

“I’m glad you two fell right back into your old rhythm.”

 

“Are you kidding me, he’s my best mate.  I love him to pieces.”  Richard just smiles and squeezes Kit’s hand.

 

They’re back at the hotel, and they head upstairs to their room where Richard calls Bradley and puts it on speaker, and, as soon as Kit asks how Ghost’s been doing, all they can hear is barking, and Kit laughs, beaming.  They chat with Bradley a little bit, Kit makes obnoxious noises at Ghost, who goes crazy in return, and then they’re crawling under the blankets and Kit’s _asking_ like he hasn’t in so long, and Richard just pushes their mouths together and lets him in.

 

Their fourth day in Venice is much like their first two, though they only leave the hotel once for dinner, instead getting room service for lunch because they’re too busy tangled in each other.  Kit won’t let them stay in another day, though, and they take an early train down to Florence, a two and a half hour ride that gets them there around ten.  They visit the Ponte Vecchio first and find a shop where they buy pastries before they’re spending the rest of the day with Richard laughing at Kit whenever he gets them lost and Kit kissing him triumphantly everytime he actually finds one of the places they’re looking for.  They end up in three separate places, the Accademia Gallery, the Bargello Museum, and the Pitti Palace, and Richard starts to geek out with Kit finally until they’re both just staring wide-eyed around them.

 

They’re getting dinner in a beautiful restaurant overlooking the Arno River when it happens.  Kit’s shrugging into his jacket while Richard signs the check, and he laughs at something Kit’s saying, not looking up at him, when Kit suddenly breaks off.  Richard turns his gaze up, looking curiously over at Kit, who’s preoccupied talking with a teenage girl who is wringing her hands in front of her nervously despite the wide, uncontrollable beam and flushed cheeks.

 

“Yeah, of course,” he hears Kit say, and then he’s turning to Richard, “She’s a fan of _Thrones_ , said her cousin works on set and heard it through the grapevine.”  Richard blinks, and Kit rolls his eyes.  “That we got married,” he clarifies, and Richard nods, standing.  They take a picture with her, standing on either side, and she congratulates them again, to which Richard smiles brightly and takes Kit’s hand.  They talk for a bit longer until she’s excusing herself, and they give her hugs goodbye before heading out of the restaurant.

 

“What?” Richard says when they take to the streets, and Kit’s grinning.

  
“Just a bit giddy is all, _husband_.”

 

Richard’s beam is instantaneous, and he tugs on Kit’s hand until he stops and turns, smiling when Richard leans forward to kiss him.  They catch a train back to Venice after that, and they both fall asleep on the ride, Kit curled up in Richard’s lap, Richard’s fingers threaded through his black curls.  They crash when they get back to the hotel, but Kit’s rousing them early again the next morning for _Rome_.  He reveals they have a hotel room booked for one night in Rome because there’s so many places to visit, and so they only do the Coliseum, the Pantheon, and St. Peter’s Basilica the first day, but then there’s a festival that night that keeps them up into the wee hours of the morning.  They sleep in a little the second day, but Richard’s anxious to get up and out to see everything, and they visit the Vatican, the Aventine, the Baths of Caracalla, and the Theatre of Marcellus on the second day.

 

After that, they’ve only got one day left in Venice, which they spend in the city again before they’re taking a plane to Sicily and their beach house.  It’s much like the one in Spain, and they spend the first week doing absolutely nothing but rolling around in bed—and various other surfaces—swimming in the ocean, and lounging in the sun.

 

On their fifth day there, Richard leaves Kit to continue being a fish while he lays out a towel at his feet and plops down in a beach chair, tipping his head back and pushing on his sunglasses.  He lets the sound of the waves and the heat lull him until he’s feeling drowsy, and just as he’s drifting off a little, water starts dripping onto his shins, and he groans, reaching up a foot to push Kit away, who just laughs at him and kisses along his shoulder and down to his collarbone.  He stops pushing him away and instead hooks his foot around his knee, sliding up to his thigh and pulling him closer, and Kit laughs again.

 

He curls a lazy hand in Kit’s curls and tips his head back until he can kiss him, and Kit’s fingers start undoing his shorts quickly.  Kit kisses him breathless, a fierce show of passion until Richard’s groaning into his mouth, and then Kit’s fingers are curling around his half-hard cock and pulling him from his shorts, and Richard pulls away, giving him a bewildered look.  “We’re on a public beach,” he says, and Kit rolls his eyes at him.

 

“Hardly.  There’s not another beach house for miles on either side.”  Kit scoots back, Richard’s fingers still tangled in his curls, and Richard starts to say something but then Kit takes the head of his cock in his mouth and laps a salty tongue over it, making him swear, nails scraping over Kit’s scalp.

 

“Kit,” he manages, “Anyone could walk by.”  Kit just hums around him, taking him in further until he’s wrapping one hand around the base of his dick, and his head’s bobbing Richard’s lap.  “Seriously, what is with you and public places?  First the damn hotel room when the reporters almost caught us, and then the restaurant in Spain, and— _fuck_ ,” he breathes out, shifting in his chair a little.  He can’t manage much more than bitten back moans as Kit slowly takes him farther in, cock nudging at the back of his throat, hand moving to spread over Richard’s thigh.  Finally, though, Kit pulls back, paying special attention to the head before he releases him and raises his gaze to Richard, one eyebrow quirked up.  “You _like_ it,” Richard says, a little breathless, and Kit barks out a short laugh at him before leaning forward to kiss him.

 

“Fuck yeah, I do,” he murmurs against his lips, “Now, how about you put me on my back and fuck me right here for anyone to see.”

 

“You and your damn mouth,” Richard grumbles, straightening and pushing him away, “Always getting me into trouble.”  Kit just smirks, laughing when Richard pushes him again, sending him onto the large towel spread out next to the chair, and they don’t get caught.

 

Their last week in Sicily, they do some sight-seeing, going to Sperlinga Castle and the ancient settlements of Tindari and Halaesa, and by then, they’re both itching to get back home.

 

Their flight is a late one, and they get back to London around ten.  Kit keeps whining for him to call Bradley, and so he does as they’re hailing down a cab.  “Hey!” Bradley answers, “How’s Italy?”

 

“We actually just landed in London, and we were wondering if we might swing by and get Ghost.”

 

“Yeah, Colin and I will be up for a while now.  Come on by.”

 

“Excellent, we’re on our way.”  They hang up, and Kit does a little dance before they pile into the cab and head for home.  Once they’ve got their shit dumped in the front hall, Kit grabs the keys to the jeep, and they make their way to Bradley’s.  It’s a quiet ride, both tired from the flight home, and, when Kit pulls up in front of Bradley and Colin’s flat, Richard’s hand is loose against his where they’re holding hands, his head leaned to the side, and his eyes closed.  Kit smiles and takes his hand back, leans over to kiss him on the forehead, and then climbs out of the jeep, pocketing his keys.  He leaves Richard sleeping in the car and jogs up the steps to ring the bell, and he laughs when he hears Ghost jump at the door.

 

“Ghost, down,” Colin calls, and, a few seconds later, he opens the door and smiles widely, Ghost whining at his side as he sees Kit.  “He’s been going nuts without you,” Colin says, and Kit taps a hand against his thigh, allowing Ghost to jump up to him.  He nuzzles against Kit, who just laughs and scrubs a hand over his head, scratching behind his ears.

 

“Thanks for watching him.”

 

“Yeah, no problem.  He and Bradley had a great time.”

 

“Awh, is Ghost leaving us?” Bradley says, coming around to stand by Colin, leaning against the doorframe.  He nods a head toward the jeep, grinning.  “Richard fall asleep on you?”

 

“Yeah, it was a long day.  I should get him home, though.  Thanks again, really.”

 

“Say hello to Richard for me,” Bradley says, waving as Kit goes back down the stairs, Ghost at his heels.  He waves before he climbs into the jeep, and Richard stirs when Ghost nudges at him from the backseat.

 

Richard groans and shifts, reaching out a hand to pet Ghost tiredly.  “Sorry,” he mumbles to Kit, who just smiles and shrugs.  He falls back asleep on the way home, though he wakes when Kit gets out, Ghost jumping out behind him, and they head inside, ignoring their things for later.  Instead, they go upstairs and climb into bed, Ghost curling up at their feet, and Kit wraps Richard up in his arms and falls asleep to the sound of his breathing.

**Author's Note:**

> FINALLY. I know, I always take forever with these stories, I’m sorry. But okay, here’s the deal. So, this was originally going to be it—I was going to call this series done after this one, but I’ve just got so many freaking ideas for these two that I’m not. That said, don’t expect the fourth one anytime soon. Well, like—maybe in six months, like I usually do, I dunno. I’ll probably be starting it soon, but I always seem to flake on it and then go back, and repeat. I’m not even sure at this point if it’s only going to be four or maybe more, but definitely another one is in the future. I’ve got enough ideas tumbling around to fill a fourth one, and it won’t be all wishy washy, no drama—which, granted, this one kind of did, or, at least, it had some big moments—because I’ve got some _ideas_ , man, it’s going to be awesome.
> 
> Anyway, so hey, here’s the third one. I really hope you guys enjoyed it, and I know it’s been forever, so I hope it was worth the wait. Oh, and, fucking Kit Harington, okay, with his whole “I’ve got a complete man crush on Richard Madden” and “I just look at him and think, what a sexy boy.” Damn it, Kit. He’s going to be the death of me, and I’m going to love it.
> 
> I GUESS THIS IS IN CELEBRATION OF TONIGHT? Also, I wanted to post this on my birthday, which was two days ago—I’m twentyone now, hot damn—but couldn’t make myself finish it because I randomly started doing a reread of my novels? Whatever. I’m really excited for tonight’s premiere, and I feel like I’m going to die—also _Vikings_ —and I just want so much husbands, yes please. Anyway, don’t forget to leave your thoughts!


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